I made a pizza
With with kale and s’mores,
Sime slightly-burnt Dr. Pepper
And pastrami galore!
Now you mean to say
You ain’t hungry no more?
Tag Archives: Men
For Those Who Can’t Wait, There’s Always Wrestling
Today’s a unique day
When tens of millions of men
Are depressed as they begin waiting
To see men in tight pants fighting again.
Filed under Poems
We Aim To Please
If you aim to please a woman:
If you aim to please a woman
In the daytime or the night
You must have the understanding
That you will do nothing right.
Women come in all varieties,
Not unlike an apple.
They’re made of the best stuff on Earth
Just like a can of Snapple.
But like a can of Snapple
With the label torn away,
You don’t know what you’ll be getting.
Don’t worry, that’s okay.
If you aim to please a man:
Take off your clothes.
Get out of those
Garments that were “Get in its.”
Then lay on back,
Hope that it’s black,
And enjoy the next three minutes.
Filed under Poems
Ode To An Inserted Thing^
To me you’re like an insert thing here^
Full of double meanings
Absent of rhyme or reason
Or punctuation
You make my anatomy act
In a way appropriate for anatomy
In a situation of extreme emotion
Such as sweating
Swelling^
Or accelerated heartbeat
You make me want to write iridescent
Not because you are
But because it sounds pretty
And you like pretty things
Like diamonds
And Benjamin Franklin
This poem is not a pretty thing
I am writing it in bed
By myself
Shortly after waking up
At 4:30 PM*
I am alone
I have B.O.**
I have cable***
And five hours before bedtime****
Although it’s not a meaningful term
Because I might not leave my bed
Rehashing of the similarity
Between you and the object
Which was inserted in the first stanza^
Because after all
This poem is about you****
Happy Valentine’s Day
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
*Untrue, but it makes me seem pitiful
** Probably true. Can’t tell due to nasal fatigue.
*** Also Untrue
**** See ***
^That sounded naughty…
Filed under Poems, To the Reader
Good Problems
One walks along the city streets,
Just trying to get some air,
Yet one can’t help but notice
All the girls who stop and stare.
One experiences this often.
If somewhere one does go
One’s glamor, wit, and glowing health
Make one a living show.
One wishes one could take a break
From being the perfect man,
So I guess I’m pretty lucky
That I’m not one, and I can.
Filed under Poems
If I were better
If I were better looking
I might’ve turned out vainer,
And fighting off all my admirers
Could be an energy drainer.
If I were affluenter
I’d have a doctorate degree
And I’d spend all of our evenings
Psychoanalyzing me.
If I were much more charming
I’d deserve a laurel wreath
And I could blind you accidentally
With the gleaming of my teeth.
If I were any better
I would surely be much worse
So quit whining and accept me
And stop being so darn terse.
Filed under Poems
The Group Date Paradigm
The exodus begins
When the conversation slows.
The first woman says “excuse me,
But I must powder my nose.”
The second woman joins her,
And the rest set in pursuit,
Ensuring the washroom diaspora
Never will be rendered moot.
Meanwhile, the men keep eating
But they cannot help but smile,
For through their lull in conversation
They’ve earned silence for a while.
They ogle other women
And they think about their cars
And how women would be better
If they also came from Mars.
And once the ladies finish
Their powdering and gossip
They go back to the table
Where they face a brand-new toss up:
They can keep on talking
Or be silent like the men.
Thus the guys pretend to listen
‘Til conversation slows again.
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 